


Waves

by one_dead_diva



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 05:06:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11373186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_dead_diva/pseuds/one_dead_diva
Summary: Anne and Jack give me the feels and I wanted them to be happy for five seconds even if it was just in my mind. Nothing happens, except Anne laughs.





	Waves

Anne bends her knees and springs up into the wave, letting it flip her up onto her back in the sea. She lets out a breath of a laugh, a rare smile lighting her bare face, and closes her eyes slowly, letting the afternoon sun filter through her eyelids in a warm orange glow. This is peace. One of the only times Anne feels truly free is in the ocean; feeling the water slide effortlessly across her skin, letting it lift her in its arms and take her wherever it chooses. Giving herself to the ocean feels perfectly natural to her. She’s been fighting against the world for so long, the release is intoxicating. The ocean is one place she feels free to let herself go, follow the flow and trust it to take her in it’s embrace and protect her. The only other place she feels that way is with her partner.

Jack doesn’t usually join her in the water. While he feels the pull of the sea- what it means, the freedom it holds- as much as any seafaring fortune seeker, the ocean itself seems to hold little appeal. Too unpredictable, too messy. While Anne frolics like a child, Jack can usually be found on the empty beach, layers of clothing despite the heat, squinting at the horizon (or more likely, a set of ledgers) through a ridiculous pair of tinted spectacles. He calls her “seal pup” and insists, too vehemently to be serious, that she not splash him, on the grounds that Captain Vane would be furious if his quartermaster allowed harm to come to the Ranger’s important logs. When he does this she cackles and chases him down the strand, til he allows himself to be tackled and they roll in the sand til Anne’s salty skin and Jack’s clothes are coated in the fine white stuff. On the rare occasion he’ll consent to join her he makes quite a sight- he’ll posture at the edge of the water skeptically testing the temperature with one toe, stark naked, impossibly pale skin like a beacon in the sun til her laugh and the sight of her red hair plastered to her face is too much too pass up and he’ll throw himself into the water, wiry limbs flailing. 

This day he’s relented to her smirking glares, unable to resist her like this; so free, so happily unfettered. The way the red of the almost setting sun lights the red of her hair on fire nearly takes his breath away. His own personal mermaid. The breeze is cool as it brushes across his bare skin and a light shiver ripples across his back. It’s worth it though, for her.

She swims up behind him as he stands waist deep in the surf, wraps her body around him, pressing herself against his back to warm them both.

“I thought,” he murmurs, “That you left your daggers on the beach.” And raises a brow.

There is a moment of bemused silence until Anne surprises both of them by laughing out loud, pushing her chill-hardened nipples deeper into his scapulae, proving his point.

“Fuck you, Jack, she breathes into his ear, but he can feel her lips smiling against his neck and he reaches a hand behind him to hold her closer.

Anne’s eyes widen and she points a think finger out to sea. “Big one coming in. Bet we can catch it.” She grabs Jack’s hand and pulls him towards the incoming wave, lining up their plunge and timing to ride the swell into shore.

She thinks it telling that, when the wave comes crashing to meet them, Jack scrambles and sputters to stay atop the roiling foam. Anne dives straight to the heart of it.


End file.
